


the dust gathers, burns

by dirgewithoutmusic



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Darwin is Alive, M/M, Mention Of Homophobia, Mention of Racism, a quick fix it drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-04
Updated: 2015-09-04
Packaged: 2018-04-19 01:03:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4726931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirgewithoutmusic/pseuds/dirgewithoutmusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alex gets drafted and Darwin grins, says, “See, the advantages of being officially dead.” He follows Alex to Vietnam, of course, hides or sneaks or vaporizes himself because he’d learned that trick from Shaw, thank you very much, you genocidal wrecking ball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the dust gathers, burns

**Author's Note:**

> I'm going through and archiving a few tumblr drabbles I hadn't yet put up here. Expect a few more. This one's a bit of an old one.

Alex has a flaming row with Hank’s idealism, Charles’s apathy, and both of their self hate. He’s been there, opting for solitary confinment because he couldn’t be trusted with other people.

But Alex has been part of a team now, Angel’s sly wit and Banshee’s terrible one-liners, Darwin’s even, communicative glances in the middle of a stand-off in a secret CIA compound. (Alex and Darwin had both agreed, in that moment, in that one met gaze, that this was a thing worth fighting for. Alex could never go back from that).

Alex had been in solitary long enough to know that you couldn’t do anything from there, to know that he was tired of being powerless. Alex walked out.  


Hank and Charles would stay in solitary until they pulled their own selves out of it. It was not Alex’s job. Maybe they would learn something in the process. They were geniuses after all.

Alex walked out and practiced his blasts on innocent boulders and empty hillsides. The burnt scars on rock and dirt grew smaller and blacker, more precise, more focused. The day Darwin came back, stuttering back into shape as his obliterated body relearned how to be a body and not a thoughtful cloud of dust, Alex had shattered a fist-sized rock and hadn’t even scorched the earth around it.

Alex and Darwin stop in arcades all across America, drop coins into ringing, whirring, flashing machines and stand too close in the dim, sticky light.

Alex holds Darwin’s hand in the back of some little roadside diner, careful to make sure no one is looking. Well, Darwin is careful and Alex is furious.

These people would hate them because they are the same (shaving side by side in the mornings, voices that lower year by year).

They would hate them for being different, for the transformations tucked in Darwin’s skin and the death lurking in Alex’s chest, but also for the way their hands look clasped together like this, black and white fingers interlaced.

Alex gets drafted and Darwin grins, says, “See, the advantages of being officially dead.” He follows Alex to Vietnam, of course, hides or sneaks or vaporizes himself because he’d learned that trick from Shaw, thank you very much, you genocidal wrecking ball.

They build a team there, thrown in with freaks and miracles. They fall into a camaraderie that terrifies and when there’s no one to see Darwin and Alex sleep back to back. They are on the look-out for Banshees, who need protecting, and Angels, who (Darwin slowly convinces Alex of this) need respect.

They live. They make it through. They have each others’ backs, because that is what they do, these two boys who want so badly to be heroes, these boys whose eyes met across a room (a path, a war, a life) and decided that men like Shaw need stopping.

Darwin can survive anything and Alex can destroy everything. Darwin has to learn to let his shields down some days and Alex has to learn to pull his punches/sharp tongue/energy death blasts.

But for the first time, there is someone Alex can’t tear down, not Darwin’s changeable, armored body or his steady patience. And finally there is someone, rough and bright, steady in his own tumultuous way, who makes Darwin want to do more than just survive.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: http://ink-splotch.tumblr.com/post/91278144579/polytropic-liar-ifeelbetterer


End file.
